


Happy Birthday To Me

by aj_hofacre, lydiamartin (dwinchester)



Series: Mermaids Never Sang [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Birthday Sex, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 17:57:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aj_hofacre/pseuds/aj_hofacre, https://archiveofourown.org/users/dwinchester/pseuds/lydiamartin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles laughed. “I knew it. She knows I know, too. We haven’t talked about it, but yeah. Do you like it?” </p>
<p>Jackson huffed, slugging Stiles in the shoulder. “It’s… I wouldn’t have thought it would be my thing, but yeah, it’s kinda good.” He nodded slowly. “I like it, yeah.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday To Me

Jackson’s cheeks ached from his smile, shaking his head at the utter lunacy of his pack as he put his head in his hands. He laughed quietly at the collective scream of ‘Happy birthday!’ “Thanks, guys.” He said, grinning hard. “You’re all insane.”

Allison giggled, throwing her arms around him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You love us this way.” She teased.

“Yeah, you’d be freaking lost without us.” Stiles added. 

Jackson thought for a moment, then shrugged, nodding. “Yeah, probably right.”

Lydia shook her head as she looked at Jackson. “Open the gift from me, first.” She had picked up a new wallet for him, then filled the card slots with gift cards for Skype, World of Warcraft, and a couple of restaurants she knew he liked. The money section was where she had tucked a train ticket from Pittsburgh to New York. 

Jackson searched through the small pile in front of him, reaching for the one marked with Lydia’s name. He smiled faintly when he opened it, his fingers touching the black leather, and he looked up at his ex. “Very nice. Thanks, Lyds.” His voice caught on her name once he opened it and saw the extent of her presents, and he nearly dropped the wallet, inhaling sharply. “Jesus, Lydia.” He caught sight of the train ticket and grinned, nearly lunging for her and kissing the top of her head as he hugged her. 

Lydia laughed. “You’re welcome.” She smiled. “I don’t want you having any excuses why you haven’t kept in touch with us.” 

“No reason for excuses.” Jackson nodded. “Cora wouldn’t let me, anyway.”

“He’s right. I wouldn’t.” Cora nudged Jackson, picking up the wallet to look through it. She had been a little irritated with Lydia during her first few weeks of dating Jackson, since the two of them seemed like they were pretty close for exes, but after seeing the way Allison was with Scott, she figured out that it was just normal. 

Jackson snagged an arm around Cora, dragging her against him to kiss her. 

Stiles glanced at the time on his cell phone. He, Allison, Jackson and Cora had agreed on tonight, for him to sleep with Jackson. He was trying his best not to start fidgeting. 

Jackson’s lips curved up into a smile against Cora’s lips when he heard Stiles begin to squirm.

Allison ducked her head, smirking, and put her hand over Stiles’, squeezing gently. “Are you excited?” She asked, teasing. She was looking at Jackson, but her question was broad, and directed at both her pseudo-brother and her fiance.

Stiles nodded once, knowing that everyone else at the table already knew what was going on. He didn’t want to have anyone making fun of him or saying anything that would just make him nervous. 

Jackson tilted his head to the side, bobbing it in agreement with Stiles. “Sure, yeah.” His arm settled around Cora. 

Scott fidgeted in his seat, still unsure of how to think about what Stiles and Jackson had planned without feeling uncomfortable about it. He sighed and leaned back, tossing his feet up on the coffee table and crossing them at the ankles. “I still think this is weird.” He admitted.

“Are you gonna Alpha us and tell us we can’t?” Stiles asked. “Because you know that’s just going to make me get up from this table and walk away.” 

Scott rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because me telling you not to do something worked so well the last time. No, I’m not gonna go all Alpha-whatever on you. Do whatever you want, I’m just saying, it’s weird.”

“You just _think_ it’s weird.” Stiles pointed out. “The only people who really need to think about it are right here.” He gestured to Cora and Allison. “And they’re okay with it.” He deliberately ignored Scott mentioning the last time Stiles hadn’t listened. It had been a week before, when he was half-drunk and decided a hot sauce and peanut butter sandwich sounded like the best idea he had ever had. 

“Yeah, well, they love you two for some reason.” Scott shot back, eyes twinkling. 

Allison rolled her eyes. “Gee, I wonder why. It’s not like he gets me, or would do anything for me, like making me a mommy.” She brandished her hands on either side of her belly for emphasis, sticking her tongue out at Scott.

“Hold on.” Cora muttered. “No offense Jackson, but... Scott, don’t put words in my mouth. I haven’t said it yet and I’m not ready to, so don’t just assume things.” 

Jackson squirmed uncomfortably. “Yeah, man, not exactly cool.” He muttered.

Scott looked embarrassed, holding his hands up. “I didn’t mean it, like… I mean, I meant it in the way that we all love each other, but not like that. I mean, Allison and Stiles kind of transcend the meaning of the words in their own way, and I’m - you’re not - sorry. I’ll shut up.”

Cora made a face and put her head down, wondering how she had ended up as a beta in a pack run by an energetic, happy-go-lucky kind of guy. “Open the rest of your presents, Jackson.” 

Jackson snorted, shaking his head and leaning forward to open the rest of his gifts in steady fashion. Once he reached the last gift (from Derek, a certificate to an auto shop to get the Porsche detailed), he sat back, smiling contentedly at his haul. “You all drive me insane, but I appreciate this. Thanks, guys.”

Lydia nodded in approval before she realized what she was doing. She smiled as she looked around at the pack members, wondering if she would ever let go of the control she had over some of them. She doubted it. “Up.” She got to her feet. “Let’s go. Jackson, I doubt I’ll see you before I leave for Ireland, since Derek and I are going tomorrow, so... well, all of you. Have a great summer.” She laughed when Stiles hissed at her. 

“That’s the worst thing you could have said. The actual worst thing.” Stiles protested. 

Derek sighed. “We’re not - we’re leaving to have a good time, but we’re going to be cautious while we’re gone. Same goes for you all, too.”

Stiles frowned at Derek. “Okay, what the hell are you talking about? You don’t... oh. Nevermind. Sorry.” 

Allison sighed, standing up and drawing Lydia into a hug before she did the same to Derek. “Just please have a good time and be careful and bring me back something Celtic-y?”

“When you can send me a text message that doesn’t use numbers for words, I’ll look into buying you a castle in Ireland.” Lydia remarked. “I’m going to miss you. I want baby updates.” 

“I make no promises about the text messages. The baby updates, I can do.” Allison smiled, squeezing Lydia’s hand. “I’m going to miss you, too. And so is Rose.” The baby danced, tiny fluttering movements appearing against Allison’s skin like Rose was agreeing.

Lydia glanced down at Allison’s stomach, then sat back down. “You don’t have a problem with me touching your stomach, do you? I saw the look on your face in the grocery store the other day, when that cashier decided she had to say hello to Rose.” 

Allison snorted. “I have a problem with people I don’t even know thinking they can touch my belly without my express permission. You’re as good as my sister.” She nodded firmly. “I definitely don’t have a problem with you touching my stomach.”

Lydia nodded, bringing a hand up carefully to rest it on Allison’s stomach. She jumped when Rose kicked. “Oh.” She smiled, pressing her lips together. “Well, then. Goodbye, Rose. I’ll be away for two months, but I’ll come back for a little while, before I go off to New York. And I’ll see you whenever you decide to greet the world.” 

Allison swallowed, trying to force back the tears that were threatening to spill, and she hugged Lydia again. “I’m going to give you, like, a week’s warning. The doctor says I’m due September twenty-fourth, so I expect you to be back here at least by September twentieth.”

“I’ll have my first month of coursework done by the second week, anyway.” Lydia shrugged. “I’ve already got my required books, but I was told that I can’t bring them with me on the vacation.” 

Derek smiled faintly. “I’m sure we’ll think of other things to occupy you.” He murmured.

Allison giggled quietly. “As long as you enjoy yourselves,” she told them.

“We will.” Lydia stood up again and reached for Derek’s hand as she walked out of Jackson’s house. 

Jackson waved goodbye to the others as they followed suit, hugging when he could, before he turned to Cora, Allison and Stiles, folding his arms over his chest. “So, then.”

“Well, I’m leaving.” Cora laughed and turned to Allison. “Wanna go see a movie?” 

Allison grinned at her. “Ooh, popcorn. I’d love to.”

“Great.” Cora nodded. She patted Jackson’s chest. “Have fun. Don’t use this an excuse to break up with me or I’ll claw your eyes out while you sleep.” She grinned. “Bye, Stiles.” 

“Um, bye?” Stiles blinked as Cora left the room. 

Allison snickered quietly, raising herself onto her tiptoes to kiss Stiles’ cheek. “What she said, but with arrows. I have double the reason to do it.” She teased. “I love you. Bye, baby.” She hugged Jackson before she left. “Be good to him, mister.”

Jackson snorted in amusement. “I’m pretty sure I won’t need to.” He told her, but petted her hair and hugged her back. “Bye, Al.”

Stiles waited until they were gone, the front door closed behind them, before he turned to face Jackson. “Okay, where do you want to do this, and how do you want to do this?” 

Jackson blew out a breath before clasping his hands together behind his head. He looked uncertain for a moment. “Not my bed.” He said hesitantly. “It’s - Cora and I… she might be cool with this right now, but I’m not sure how she’d react to scenting you and me on the sheets. And we’re kind of taking it with us to Pittsburgh in a U-Haul, so, you know. There’s that.” He moved forward. “But we can take the guest room.”

Stiles nodded. “Okay, that takes care of where, but what did you have in mind?” He asked quietly. It was a little odd to him that he was more experienced than Jackson, at least in this regard. 

Jackson frowned a little, scratching at the back of his neck. “I, uh… I’m not sure. What Lydia and I - I mean.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve never been with a guy like that.”

Stiles laughed. “I knew it. She knows I know, too. We haven’t talked about it, but yeah. Do you like it?” 

Jackson huffed, slugging Stiles in the shoulder. “It’s… I wouldn’t have thought it would be my thing, but yeah, it’s kinda good.” He nodded slowly. “I like it, yeah.”

“So, is that what you want?” Stiles was surprised at how patient he was being now, when less than an hour ago, he was barely able to sit still. “You want me to go slow? Tell you what to do?” 

Jackson took a deep breath. “You might have to - I mean, I wouldn’t mind.” He snorted. “It’s not easy admitting that I’m not experienced in everything.”

“Well, you’ll get past that tonight.” Stiles smiled. “And then if you meet a hot guy in Pittsburgh,” he couldn’t help snorting, “you’ll be more prepared.” 

Jackson snorted again, lightly buffing the palm of his hand against the back of Stiles’ head before dragging Stiles toward him. “Come here.”

Stiles took a step closer to Jackson, smiling playfully as he leaned in, a fraction of an inch between his lips and Jackson’s. 

Jackson inhaled sharply before ducking his head forward and kissing Stiles firmly.

Stiles kissed back, resting a hand between Jackson’s shoulder blades. He brought his other hand up to the back of Jackson’s neck. 

Jackson’s hand slid forward to rest on Stiles’ hip, his other hand winding around Stiles’ waist, and he held him fast, his mouth dragging slowly against Stiles’ lips. “Guest room.” He murmured quietly.

Stiles pulled away, walking up the stairs to the guest room. “Are you going to sell this house at some point? I’m just wondering.” 

Jackson shrugged. “Probably. It’s not like my parents are planning to come back to Beacon Hills now that my dad’s in with the DA’s office in London.” He stepped into the guest room, his eyes watching Stiles intently. “Why?”

“Just wondering.” Stiles repeated. He reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it to one side of the room. 

Jackson did the same, tossing the shirt over his shoulder. Smirking faintly at Stiles, he said, “Whatever,” curled his fingers into the waistband of Stiles’ pants and then dragged him toward the bed.

Stiles laughed, laying down and pulling Jackson down onto the bed with him. He unfastened his own jeans as he watched Jackson, lifting his hips off the bed to push the denim off of his legs and onto the floor. 

Jackson settled above Stiles, watching as the other boy’s pants slid down. He took a deep breath and unbuttoned his own jeans, only getting barely halfway before grunting and rolling off of the bed to drag them down the rest of the way. He climbed back onto the bed a moment later, smirking a bit. “Well. This is further than we ever got in eighth grade.”

“Yeah? Whose fault is that, again?” Stiles grinned. “Why don’t you just get back over here and kiss me?” 

“Why don’t you make me earn it?” Jackson shot back, raising his eyebrows. His hand reached out, trailing his thumb over Stiles’ stomach.

“Because I don’t go in for that kind of thing.” Stiles shrugged. “Sex is amazing, it’s pretty much impossible to be bad at it, and there’s no real need for deprivation.” 

“Maybe not, but sometimes…” Jackson’s hand slid just under Stiles’ boxers. “It can be kind of a thrill.”

“I’m too impatient. I prefer instant gratification.” Stiles grabbed Jackson’s wrist, pushing the other man’s hand closer to his erection. “It could work out for both of us, this way. If you really want to be bossed around.” 

“I think it’s kind of obvious at this point that I sort of get off on it.” Jackson murmured, and wrapped his hand around the base of Stiles’ dick, his eyes focusing on the movement of his hand.

Stiles bit down on his lip. “No complaints from me.” He muttered, sitting up a little to kiss Jackson again. 

Jackson smirked against Stiles’ mouth, lifting his chin a bit to slip his tongue past Stiles’ lips. His grip tightened a bit, and he stroked Stiles slowly, his thumb rubbing along the head of the other man’s dick.

Stiles whined, his tongue sliding against Jackson’s as he fumbled for his friend’s erection, eager to return the favor. 

“Oh, shit,” Jackson breathed, pushing into Stiles’ hands. He pulled back for a moment to bury his face in Stiles’ neck, then peered down to look at Stiles’ throat before he swiped his tongue slowly across Stiles’ clavicle. His hand twisted, and he shifted against Stiles’ hip, grinding slowly.

“You want me to suck your dick?” Stiles offered, laughing a little. 

Jackson debated for a moment, then nodded. “How good are you at it? You only fucked Derek, didn’t you? Or were there other guys before you shacked up with Ally?”

“Just Derek. But he liked it.” Stiles glanced up at Jackson. “Is that a deterrent? Are you going to hate it by default because I said that?” 

“No. Jesus, Stilinski.” Jackson looked amused. “I can’t stand the fucker, but it doesn’t mean - I don’t - just get the fuck over here.” He tugged at Stiles’ arm sharply, lunging forward to press their lips together.

Stiles laughed against Jackson’s lips, then calmed down enough to kiss back before he pulled away, kissing Jackson’s neck, instead. 

Arching his head back a little, Jackson slid his hand up Stiles’ shoulder, running his fingers straight up Stiles’ skin and into his hair. His eyes fluttered shut, and he squirmed under Stiles, nudging their hips together insistently.

“I wanted this. Years ago, when the most we did was kiss, I thought about trying to convince you to ditch school with me.” Stiles admitted. He glanced up at Jackson. “But I probably would have been terrible.” 

Jackson grinned. “It’s not like I would’ve been any better. We could have sucked - we could have been terrible together.” He couldn’t hold back the laugh at his own words.

Stiles laughed again. “Just say we would have sucked at sucking. There’s nothing wrong with blunt honesty.” 

“I’d rather get on with the sucking, if you’re okay with that.” Jackson murmured, and twisted until he was completely flat on his back, dragging Stiles against him and swallowing his laughter with another kiss. “C’mon.” He murmured. “Fuck me.”

“Well, I can’t do both.” Stiles smiled. “Pick one.” 

Jackson grumbled. “Fine. Blow me first, then fuck me.”

“Aww, that was so sweet.” Stiles muttered sarcastically, but he didn’t really care. He braced his weight on his hands, moving backward until he was at eye-level with Jackson’s hips, shifting his weight to his knees as he wrapped a hand around Jackson’s erection and lowered his mouth to it a moment later. 

Jackson was watching Stiles so intently that it took him a few minutes to realize that he had actually stopped breathing. He inhaled so sharply that he started coughing, grabbing Stiles’ shoulder. “Jesus fuck.” Pounding on his chest with his other hand, he breathed deeply several times before he was able to relax and press his hips up. “Yeah, just… Goddamn.” 

Despite the situation involving Derek not being real, Stiles had enjoyed going down on him. He hadn’t thought much about it since he found out the truth, but things were a little different with Jackson, who actually had wanted him, no matter how briefly. He moved over Jackson slowly, bringing his left hand up to rub the other guy’s chest. 

Jackson groaned, his back arching off of the mattress. “Fuck. Stiles.” He breathed out softly, both hands now moving up to twist through Stiles’ hair. “Feels - feels good.” He muttered. Peering down his chest at Stiles, he let one of his hands fall to the bed, his thumb hooking into the waistband of the boxers he had never taken all the way off, dragging them off of their half-perch around his thighs until they were around his ankles and sliding to the floor. “Come on,” he encouraged Stiles, lifting his hips again.

Stiles straddled Jackson’s thighs and ran his tongue up the length of the other man’s erection. He glanced up at him. “Good so far?” 

“I just to-told you, fuck,” Jackson sputtered, sounding strangled. “Yes, yeah, goddammit.”

Stiles opened his mouth wider, taking Jackson all the way in as he sank down, gripping Jackson’s thighs hard enough to bruise. He knew it wouldn’t matter, Jackson would heal fast enough, anyway. 

A sound caught halfway between a growl and a moan spilled past Jackson’s lips, and his body jerked as he pushed himself deeper into Stiles’ mouth. “Harder,” he gasped out, panting.

Stiles tightened his grip on Jackson’s legs, moving faster. He was pretty sure this was his favorite thing about sex, getting someone to their breaking point and watching them fall apart because of what he was doing to them. 

Jackson’s body shivered against Stiles. He could feel his limbs tightening up, his dick hardening and his balls drawing up, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. He grit his teeth, trying to keep his claws from popping out and injuring Stiles - he didn’t care so much about the mattress, though, and promptly dropped his hands palms-flat against the sheets, just as his claws shot out and punched slits nearly to the bed springs.

Stiles dug his own nails into Jackson’s thighs, just hard enough for him to feel it, but not so deep that he would break the skin there. He dragged his teeth up, over Jackson’s erection, slowly. 

“Close,” Jackson breathed out. “Just - need - fuck, I’m gonna… Stiles…” He jackknifed upward, his body nearly propelling itself off of the bed, and he grabbed on to Stiles’ shoulders, the tips of his claws just lightly pricking the skin as he came.

Stiles swallowed as much as he could, wiping his mouth as he sat up. “That was good.” He smiled. “I want to do that again before I have to go.” 

Jackson dropped back against the mattress, blinking blearily and staring at Stiles. “What?” He slurred. Shaking his head, he let out a laugh. “Fuck. I feel stoned.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” Stiles stretched out on his back, beside Jackson. 

Jackson lay flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling and panting for a moment before he was able to turn his head and look at Stiles. “Want me to blow you before we do anything else, or do you wanna get to the main event?”

“If you blow me, it’ll be awhile before I can do anything else.” Stiles pointed out. “I mean, if that’s what you want, it’s not like I’d be sad about it. It’s your birthday. You get to decide.” 

Jackson reached down, wrapping his fist around Stiles’ prick and stroking him idly as he thought. He looked at the other boy, then shrugged. “Might as well fuck me, then.”

Stiles snorted. “You know, you’re weird. Weirder than I thought you were, and in an entirely different way. Do you have lube?” 

“Fuck.” Jackson grumbled, reluctantly pulling his hand back. “In my room. Stay.” He got up shakily, heading out of the guest room. He was back before less than a minute had passed, chucking the packets of lube at Stiles’ chest before freezing. “We don’t need condoms, do we? Should I have gotten one?”

“Can former kanimas have ass babies?” Stiles retorted. “Because I think we’re okay. I’ve had sex with Allison and Derek. You’ve had sex with Lydia and Cora. Anybody else?” 

“There were a couple of people in London and Paris.” Jackson muttered, walking over to the bed again and smacking Stiles’ shoulder. “I was thinking more about clean-up issues, shithead, but hey, if it gets you off to see your jizz all over me, whatever.”

“Well... maybe it does.” Stiles mused. “I guess we’ll find out. You said people, though. Not women. So Lydia’s not the only one that’s been in your ass, then. I’m not asking about Cora. I don’t wanna know.” 

“I told you earlier that I’ve never been with a guy like that, dammit.” Jackson snapped. “Lydia’s just - you’d be the first guy to… breach.” He turned red.

“No, keep talking.” Stiles insisted, grinning. “I wanna hear this. Tell me everything.” He coated his index and middle fingers in lube, pressing one inside Jackson slowly. 

Jackson inhaled sharply, his eyes going slightly wide and his mouth opening. “I - there’s nothing to tell, I just… just… uh.” His eyes blinked rapidly, and he unconsciously started thrusting down against Stiles’ hand, his head cocking to the side as his vision went unfocused. “I… I don’t think I _can_ talk.”

“Are you saying you want me to stop?” Stiles teased, slowing down. “Did you get Lydia to peg you because you missed me?” 

Jackson scowled, kicking at him with one foot. “She fucking psychoanalyzed me and told me it was something I probably needed. She probably fucking knew more, but it’s not like she would have said so at the time.”

Stiles smirked and added a second finger, thrusting them in and out of Jackson slowly. “She’s Lydia, she fucking knew.” He muttered. “Can I bite you?” 

Jackson snorted, relaxing against the mattress and shaking his head. “You’re asking the werewolf if you can bite him.” He repeated in disbelief. “Come here.” He slid his hand around Stiles’ head, dragging him down and tucking Stiles’ face against his neck. “Bite. As hard as you want, it’s not like I’m not gonna heal.”

Stiles bit down on Jackson’s neck as he started thrusting his fingers deeper. He ran his tongue over the bite a few seconds later, then pulled back to watch the dark purple indents in Jackson’s skin fade. 

Jackson gasped feverishly, his hands grabbing at Stiles’ body. “Okay, okay, enough! Fuck me, dammit!”

Stiles slid his fingers out, gripping his cock and sliding it inside Jackson as he bit his lip, but he couldn’t help groaning. “Jesus christ.” 

“Oh, fuck.” Jackson muttered, his hand reaching out to grasp Stiles’ forearm, his mouth hanging open. “O-okay. Okay. It’s - yeah, there’s a _definite_ difference here. Big difference. Big.”

Stiles couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. “Give it a minute.” He coaxed, thrusting in and out of Jackson gently. “I appreciate the compliment, though.” 

Jackson laughed quietly, too, arching up and bracing his hands beneath him on the bed. “There’s more compliments if you fuck me harder.” He groaned. “C’mon. Pound me, Stilinski.” A smirk graced his face at his last words.

Stiles stared down at Jackson, then moved his friend’s legs so that Jackson’s ankles rested on his shoulders. He could feel himself sliding in deeper. “You’ve obviously been dying to say that for the past week.” He smiled, thrusting harder and faster, the way Jackson had asked him to. 

“Who, me?” Jackson hummed, grinning. “Nah. You’re imagining shit.” He reached down, wrapping his hand around his own dick, stroking himself.

Stiles narrowed his eyes, moving suddenly to pin Jackson’s wrists to the mattress. He knew it was pretty much pointless, since Jackson could probably throw him through a wall if he wanted to. His gesture wasn’t about the reality of the situation. 

Jackson licked his lips, smirking up at Stiles. “What, you don’t want me jerking myself?”

“Nope. You wanted me to come over here,” Stiles lowered his voice. “To fuck you so hard that you feel it, even with that super-fast healing of yours. You wanted me to tell you what to do. I’m telling you now not to jerk off while I’m fucking you. You don’t need to, anyway. You’re still going to come.” 

Jackson shuddered, reaching up to wrap an arm around Stiles’ neck, the angle slightly awkward but making him shake as it practically bent him in half. “Then make me come.” He whispered, lunging forward and kissing Stiles deeply, his tongue flicking filthily into the other boy’s mouth.

Stiles slid his hands under Jackson's hips, pounding into him as he thought back to days when their kissing had been more innocent than this. He dragged his mouth away from Jackson's, going back to kissing his neck. He couldn't resist biting back down on Jackson's skin. 

Jackson let out a cry, his head flying back, and his fingers flexed around Stiles as he came between them, staining his chest and Stiles’ stomach. He clenched down around Stiles roughly as he shook, his mouth opening for a soundless moan.

Stiles pulled out, rising up onto his knees as he stroked himself, coming on Jackson’s abdomen. He laughed as he caught his breath. 

Jackson stared down at the mess, blinking idly, then rolled his eyes as he looked up at Stiles. “Asshole.” He laughed, dropping his legs and nudging Stiles’ ass with one foot.

“Yeah, but you like it.” Stiles got up from the bed, coming back with a damp washcloth. He dropped it on Jackson’s stomach, then sat down on the edge of the bed. 

Jackson stretched out comfortably, his arms coming up to fold behind his head. His foot rocked back and forth, his toes lightly smacking into Stiles’ thigh. “Wanna run away with me?” He asked, straight-faced.

“My girlfriend can kill me from a distance.” Stiles mused. “And she’s having our baby. I think your timing is off.” He patted Jackson’s knee. “You should have asked me in Paris. Except that you couldn’t have, because you wouldn’t even so much as say hello.” He snorted. 

“Your existence still pissed me off at the time, but I’m over it.” Jackson poked him, grinning. “Nevermind the fact that you were already up Ally’s ass at the time. But yeah, it’s probably not a good idea. Your girlfriend can kill you from a distance, but my girlfriend can maim me before I can heal.”

“Oh, okay!” Stiles retorted. “Just because I punched you in the face and kidnapped you in a police van one time...” He grinned back. “That’s no reason to be pissed off. You’ve got anger issues.” 

“You have idiot issues, so I guess it’s a stalemate,” Jackson shot back, smirking at him.

“No, no. I have issues _with_ idiots.” Stiles corrected. “Not the same thing.” 

“You have both.” Jackson snorted, nudging him again. He sighed after a moment. “So I should probably get dressed.”

“Are we done?” Stiles asked. “I mean, if you’re done, then I’m done, obviously.” 

Jackson raised his eyebrows. “Do you want to be done?” He asked back. “Because, you know. If you wanted to get off one more time, I could probably take care of that.”

“Well, not just yet. Do you... are you okay with more of a mess, or should I wear a condom? Because I’m going to have to take a shower, either way. I just don’t know if you want me to do that first, since I doubt you’d want your mouth on my dick right now, or if I should wait until after.” 

Jackson eyed Stiles searchingly, then sat up. “The shower is big enough for two.” He offered finally.

Stiles nodded. “Okay.” He picked up the washcloth and carried it back into the bathroom, tossing it into the laundry basket there and turning the water on. “It’s a little fucked up, isn’t it?” He glanced over his shoulder at Jackson. “Any of us, at any time, could have gotten into a lasting relationship. Things have just ended up how they have because of one or two things we said or did. And I don’t think that’s the Fates’ work, I think that’s all it is for anybody. My parents started dating because my dad arrested my mom for breaking his nose.” He shook his head. “I probably shouldn’t think that’s a cute story.” 

Jackson snorted. “That’s hilarious, actually.” He leaned against the doorjamb. “They probably thought it was, too. Or they exaggerated so they’d have something funny to tell you when you asked.”

“If they did, it was my mom’s idea. I’m more like her than my dad, which is why we spent the past few years not getting along all that well.” Stiles shrugged and stepped into the tub. “Come on.” 

“Maybe he just sees how much you’re like her, and it makes him feel like shit.” Jackson suggested, climbing in after him. “And then he feels like shit about comparing you to her. I’ve seen your dad with you, man.” He pressed his lips together, frowning. “Almost wish I could have that with mine. Instead, I got Super-Attorney, the Incredible British Ass-kisser.”

Stiles turned the shower on and stood under the spray, rinsing himself off before he turned to face Jackson. “Your dad likes to wave his authority around like it’s his dick.” He agreed. “But you’re eighteen now, so you can do what you want, think of whoever you want as being like a dad to you. You’re not bound by legal obligations or DNA to the Whittemores. You’re your own person now.” 

Jackson shrugged. “I don’t really want or need a dad, anyway. The only reason they were there was because I didn’t have access to the money my real parents left me so I couldn’t emancipate myself. I’ve got the money now. Probably won’t change my name or anything. Douchey as it is, Whittemore still has some influence and I can use that if I plan on going into law or something.”

“Is that what you want for yourself?” Stiles poured shampoo into his hand and spread it through his hair. “To be some bigshot lawyer in Pittsburgh? I heard you weren’t coming back here.” 

“Might not.” Jackson admitted, reaching for a loofah and his bodywash. He poured a decent amount onto the loofah and set the bottle back down before he lathered up with it. He hesitated for a moment, and then ran the loofah over Stiles as well, studiously avoiding his eyes. “Beacon Hills has been sort of a shithole for me. And I do want to be a lawyer. It’s why I applied at Harvard.” He cleared his throat. “Although Harvard obviously doesn’t think I’m good enough, I guess, so Carnegie Mellon will have to do.”

“You can keep applying to Harvard.” Stiles suggested. “Or come back here and go to Stanford, since it’s closer. You get these ideas in your head, you know? You think someone asking you if you’re staying gone means they want you to. That’s not what I was saying, Jackson.” 

Jackson rolled his eyes. “And that wasn’t what I thought you meant, Stilinski. I hate this town. I only came back because of Ally and Isaac and - seeing Lydia and you, and… fuck, I don’t know, man, I just don’t see myself living in Beacon fucking Hills for the rest of my life.”

Stiles was quiet for a long moment. “Does Cora know that?” He tilted his head back to rinse his hair, then turned back toward the stream of water to rinse off the rest of his body. “Because honestly, if Allison came up to me and said she wanted to move back to Paris, that would kind of be a dealbreaker. I love her and I’d miss her, but this is my home.” 

Jackson nudged him gently out of the way, staying quiet until after he’d showered off. He exhaled heavily. “No, she doesn’t, but I don’t think Beacon Hills is the same for her as it is for Derek, or for you. She doesn’t see it as home - she sees it as the place where most of her family was murdered. I don’t think she’d even be back here if it wasn’t for Derek.”

“But she _is_ back here because of Derek.” Stiles frowned. “And when Derek and Lydia move back here, maybe she’ll want to move back, too. I can’t say I have a lot of experience with relationships, but you have to tell her how you feel, because... because if you don’t let her know that you hate this town that much, then she’s gonna waste years of her life on you being the guy that would follow her around the world.” 

Jackson blew out a breath, leaning back against the tiles and looking away from Stiles for a moment before he waved a hand. “I’ll talk to her. I don’t know what the fuck she’s gonna say, but I’ll talk to her.”

Stiles nodded. “I, uh, I should probably go home.” He murmured. “You don’t owe me a favor in return for what I did, anyway. It’s fine. Just...” He shrugged again. 

“Hey.” Jackson grabbed ahold of Stiles’ arm, reaching around him to shut the water off. He paused for a moment, then dragged him into a hug. “You’re… I’m glad we’re… you know. Whatever it is we are.” He huffed out a laugh. “I never wanted to actually stop talking to you, asshole.”

“Oh, so your phone just quit working in London and Paris?” Stiles smiled, patting Jackson’s back before he pulled away. “And the word you’re looking for is ‘friends,’ by the way. I know it’ll start an apocalypse if you say it, though. Dick.” 

“Kiss my ass, fucker.” Jackson poked him in the stomach, grinning back as he climbed out of the shower.

“I thought about it.” Stiles grabbed a towel and dried off with it. “But I decided I had other things I’d rather be doing.” 

“Like plowing my ass instead?” Jackson nonchalantly walked across the hall and back into his bedroom naked, picking out clean clothes along the way as he slipped into them. 

“I’m sorry, was that a complaint?” Stiles gathered his clothes from the guest room and walked into Jackson’s room. He pulled his shirt on over his head, then picked up his boxers and stepped into them, yanking them up to his hips. “You’re pissed off because I made you admit to something you didn’t want to admit to, and now you’re trying to cover it up by acting like you’re an enema. See, because I’m tired of calling you a douche.” 

Jackson lost it, leaning his forehead against the wall of his room as his shoulders shook from his boisterous laughter. “Jesus fucking christ, Stilinski, I can’t… He snorted out, and nearly doubled over as another round of laughter took over him.

Stiles smiled as he put his jeans back on. “You know it’s going to be weird with you gone. I mean, I know you were already gone for awhile. But that was different, because I think we all sort of expected you to come back here eventually. Now that you’re back and you’re planning on not staying... why did you come back? For Lydia?” 

The smile and laughter faded, and Jackson sighed. “Originally, yeah. I mean, Allison had been dropping hints about going back, and I hadn’t wanted to leave to begin with until my parents… But yeah, I’d been thinking about Lydia.” He set his jaw. “I was always thinking about her. And then I just - I don’t know. She started seeing Derek before I… And then that stupid fucking spell that the Furies cast, I just gave up. It was like we were supposed to be together, and then we weren’t. And when we weren’t, I just… stayed. I mean, I was almost done with school anyway, there’d have been no point in going the hell back to London when I was almost a graduate, anyway.”

“And now you’re going to be on the other side of the country. With Lydia. Not that close, but close enough. I’m not going to say anything, but are you really serious about Cora? If Lydia and Derek broke up, would you try to get her back?” 

Jackson dropped down onto his bed, thinking about it for a long moment. Eventually, he shook his head. “I wouldn’t. She’s happy with him now. Even if they broke up - I mean, fuck, she got her voice back the minute he told her he loved her. And… I wouldn’t hurt Cora. I don’t think I could, to be honest, but I wouldn’t want to. What we’ve got is different than what I had with Lyds, but… it’s still special. Still kinda thrilling. I don’t think we’re serious about each other yet, not the way you are with Allison, or the way Scott and Malia are, but we’re… we’re having fun. Enjoying ourselves, at least.”

Stiles nodded, smiling happily. “I’m actually really glad to hear that.” He still felt like being pack meant that you didn’t leave, that Derek’s explanation of pack being stronger than family was something that felt right to him, personally. But he knew it was different for Jackson and Cora. 

“Well. I’m glad.” Jackson looked amused. “I feel like I should head to the apartment. Cora and I are basically gonna have it to ourselves once Lyds and Derek are gone, but they leave tomorrow It’s either head to the apartment and say goodbye tonight, or show up at the airport tomorrow.”

“All right. I’ll see you later, then.” Stiles put his shoes on and double-checked that he hadn’t lost his keys in his hurry to take his jeans off. He lifted a hand, smiling faintly.

Jackson huffed out a laugh, raising his hand back before giving Stiles a mocking little salute. “See ya, man.”

Stiles walked downstairs and out to his Jeep, sending Allison a text. ‘On my way home.’ 

‘Still at the movies with Cora, babe. I’ll be home right after.’ Allison replied and sent an emoji heart.

‘Love you too.’ Stiles hit send and set his phone down before he drove away from Jackson’s house. All in all, he was going to say today had been good, even though the last few minutes had left him a little confused. Not about Allison, he knew he was in love with her. But a complete inability, on Jackson’s part, to form a strong enough attachment to the other pack members, to want to _stay_ in Beacon Hills, troubled Stiles. 

Jackson watched from the window as Stiles drove away, then tightened his lips as he exhaled through his nose, pulling the curtains shut again. He stepped back and dropped face down onto his bed, frowning furiously and unhappily. Stiles’ words about Cora possibly wanting to return to Beacon Hills had made him uncomfortable. He couldn’t describe his desire to all but run away from this town to Stiles, or how to begin to explain it, even if he could. He just felt that, for all that he had grown up in Beacon Hills, this town had been too rough on him. He’d lost his parents here, he’d grown up here, he’d fallen in love here for the first time, his very will had been subjugated here, and he’d died here. It left a lasting impression, or cast a very dark shadow, and Jackson couldn’t bring himself to _want_ to stay. If Cora did, after college, Jackson didn’t know what he’d do.

**Author's Note:**

> Has anyone ever actually had a peanut butter and hot sauce sandwich? If you're daring enough to try it, let us know if it's worth eating.


End file.
